


you make me want to share all my feelings

by quirkyusername



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Can be read as platonic or pre-slash - Freeform, Child Abandonment, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Evan Hansen Has Anxiety, Gen, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Jared Kleinman, Internalized Homophobia, Let boys show emotions, M/M, Panic Attacks, Pining Jared Kleinman, as always, the insanely insecure jared kleinman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 21:43:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20495798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quirkyusername/pseuds/quirkyusername
Summary: Jared hasn't been acting like himself today, and as much as Evan loves not being made fun of, it sets off some warning signs.They talk it out and learn things that neither boy knew about the other.(AKA the only thing I write is characters crying and being comforted with huge long paragraphs of words.)





	you make me want to share all my feelings

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings: self-deprecative thoughts are strong in this story, internalized homophobia, homophobic slurs, mention of suicidal thoughts/suicide attempt, emotional child abuse, swearing, panic attacks, mentions of masturbation (it’s Jared though so what can we expect)
> 
> Let me know if there's any other triggers that you find. I apologize in advance if I forgot to mention any, please everyone try to stay safe.

Jared is acting strange. He hasn't made fun of me for anything yet today, not even when I dropped my books in the hallway. 

Not that it's particularly an issue, of course! I just know that he didn't choose to randomly stop picking on me. 

And besides that, Jared just seems... distracted? 

I guess I'm just worried about him and I know that he doesn't care about me and we're just family friends and he has a bunch of real friends that he likes a lot more than me but still I feel like something is up and I can't help but worry about him.

As I walk into the lunchroom, I start to wonder if I should ask him about it. 

How would I even bring it up? Hey, I noticed that you haven't belittled me all day, is something on your mind? No, no, I couldn't do that. Maybe I could just ask him if anything's been going on lately with him? But what if he gets defensive and hates me? What if he leaves me? Jared is all I have, and as hurtful as he can be sometimes, it's good to at least know that I'm not alone all the time. 

And he hasn't left me yet for his better friends, so why am I worried? Or maybe he really is only friends with me for the car insurance. I thought he said that was just a joke? But how could he stand to be around someone as anxious and awkward as me? 

He must be getting something out of hanging out with me. Why would he pick me up at my house every morning then? He must do it so his mom thinks that he's being "nice" and he gets his car insurance paid for. 

Someone slaps my backpack and I realize that I've just been standing next to a trash can in the middle of the cafeteria freaking out about talking to Jared. 

Speaking of the devil, I turn around quickly and see the shorter boy smirking at me. 

"Having another freak out, Acorn?" 

"N-no, I was just... thinking." At least he's acting more like himself I guess? He still doesn't have the same cocky grin he usually does. 

"Did you forget how to breathe again? I'm sure there's a paper bag somewhere in this trash can, you want to dig for it?" He chuckles at his own bad joke as we walk over to our lunch table. 

"Um, no. I. I'm fine."

Sometimes Jared says that he's going to eat with his friends somewhere, so I have to eat alone (and maybe sometimes my anxiety is so bad that I feel like everyone is looking at me, and I can't eat with all of those eyes on me, so I just sit with my lunch still in my backpack and wait until the period ends), but I guess he couldn't find anyone better than me today. 

I pull out my reusable lunch box (because paper bags are bad for the environment, thank you very much) and start eating my apple. 

"So, anyway, I overheard this one guy in my trig— he's definitely a homo by the way. Anyway, he was talking about how bad Star Wars is and how Star Trek is clearly the superior syfy universe, and obviously you can't possibly argue for which one is better because they're so diverse and have different things that make them fucking dope as shit. 

"But like, obviously Star Wars has some elements that are just cringey as hell, coughHayden Christensencough, but it's still an endearing movie franchise. And don't even get me started on The Clone Wars. I've still got a sick poster up on my wall for that show, and I remember buying the action—"

"Areyouokay?" 

Shit. 

Jared's eyes widened almost comically as he stopped his dork-monologue. He didn't make a single movement for a second, and just as I'm about to apologize a million times, he starts laughing. 

"I'm not the one who cried into a garbage can for two minutes. Maybe I should be asking you that question." I fidget with my half-eaten apple as Jared takes out some homework. 

"I-I'm sorry, I uh, I didn't mean to ask that. Or I did but I didn't mean for it to come out like that. And I'm sorry that I interrupted you, Iactuallyagreewith you, The Clone Wars was a good tv show, I remember one time you wanted to dress up as Ahsoka and I was going to be Anakin wouldn't that have been funny, and also whydon'tyouhavealunch? Sorry, I, I'm asking too much again, I'll just." 

I stare intensely at my apple, hoping that it has magical teleportation powers so I can be transported to anywhere else than this mess of a conversation. Maybe a deserted island, or a bear cave. Anything would be better than this. 

He hates me, he thinks I'm so weird and he's going to leave me and I can't even blame him. I can't do anything right, not even kill my—

"Uh, so this is kind of awkward, but can I stay over at your house tonight? Not that I want to, but my mom is having a date night with some random douche and she kicked me out. I didn't even get to make my lunch or grab any money cause she was too busy 'preparing herself' or whatever. All of my friends are partying since it's a Friday night, but I know that you won't have any plans so I thought I'd ask. 

"I'll bring my Switch over and we can play Super Mario, so at least you'll actually do something instead of thinking about Zoe and crying in your bed." I glance up and Jared seems to be looking everywhere but at me. 

I did not expect him to say any of that. I was just going to offer him half of my sandwich. 

"Uh,uh, I..." I cant find the right way to respond to everything he said. Why did I start answering before I knew what I was going to say? God, I'm such an idiot. 

"Whatever, I'll just find someone else, no need to hyperventilate over it." He replies before I'm able to find the words, and he hunches into himself while fixing his glasses. 

"N-no! I. You can come!" Jared finally meets my eyes, and he has a sly grin on his face. 

"Really? You're allowing me to come, Hansen? That's pretty kinky." 

I can feel my face get warm as I try to stutter out a reply. 

"I, I, no, I didn't mean- I meant come over! Not, like, not, the other way. I just... no." Jared lets out a long chuckle before calming down enough to speak. 

"I didn't know you thought of me that way, I'm flattered. Although, I can't imagine anyone not thinking of me in that way. I've been told by some girls that I'm a pretty good lover. Not to brag, of course. It's just basic facts." He gives me a wink before looking back down at his homework. 

Jared's just so... Jared. There aren't words that can describe how infuriating it can be to hang out with him, but yet... there are some times when he's actually nice to me. 

Like when we were younger and I tripped over his skateboard (that he never learned how to ride), and he found a frozen bag of vegetables and put it on my swollen ankle. And he went to the bathroom and came back with tears in his eyes. 

Or when I was sick one day and he drove to my house and brought 5 boxes of tissues and the movie The Princess Bride to watch with me (and if he used some of the tissues during the movie, I wouldn't say a word). 

Behind that arrogant persona, he's actually not that bad of a guy. 

And yeah, he has said some stuff that kind of hurt me, but maybe it's all true? Maybe he's just the only honest person that I ever met? He knows how much of a waste of space I am, and he's just letting me know. 

Yeah, maybe that's it. 

Jared tries to slyly take a few of my celery sticks, and I let him think that I don't notice. 

I text my mom to let her know that Jared's coming over, and I think how today is going to be a weird day. 

I let out a sigh of relief as the final bell rings.  
School can sometimes be a bit too much. I just want to go home and be by myself, but—

"Sup, Treeboy. You ready to get your anxious ass kicked in Super Mario Bros?" He pulls his Nintendo Switch out of his backpack and waves it in my face. I'm not sure why he brought it with him to school, but I am not asking. 

"I, I thought that it's a team game?" I fiddle with the bottom of my shirt while we walk to Jared's car. 

"Technically it is, but what really matters at the end of the day is how many coins you get." I give him a weak smile as he turns his radio up. 

I notice that he has quite a few bags in his backseat. Why would he need so many for just one night? Why didn't he put them in the trunk? Unless he has even more in the trunk? 

Jared sees me staring and gives me a light laugh. 

"Relax, I'm not bringing all of this shit into your house. I just haven't unpacked any of my camp stuff. It's just a lot of work, you know? It's hard enough to be an incredibly bright young pupil, but I'm also super social and am always busy hanging out with friends." 

I nod, then realize that he is driving and can't look at me, so I mutter some form of affirmation to let him know that I understand. Or— I don't understand the friend part, but I get being stressed with school and other stuff. 

We ride without too much speaking, except for when Jared has occasional road rage and flips some drivers off from the safety of his PT Cruiser. 

Eventually, we reach my house. I offer to carry some of Jared's things, but he just gloats about how strong he is and how my arms look like twigs. And then he makes another tree joke (it was a year ago, can he stop talking about the worst day of my life?). 

"Your mom's not home?" He kicks his shoes off before almost bolting up the stairs. I have to sprint up the stairs to keep up with him. I respond to him once I catch my breath. 

"No, she, uh, she's working. I mean, she always works but today she's working later. The night shift. She comes back tomorrow morning though. I'm notsurewhyItoldyouthat, you didn't want to know that, s-sorry." Jared grabs his Switch before haphazardly chucking his bags to the side of my bed. 

"Oh-ho-ho, is that why you didn't want me over? You wanted the night to yourself to relieve some stress, if you know what I mean?" He wiggles his eyebrows at me and I can't help but blush for the second time that day.

"N-no, what, what are you—" What I wanted to say was 'what are you talking about, I like having you over at my house. It's the only times where you're actually sort of nice.' But like most times, I can't seem to get my words out before I'm spoken over—well, in between his fits of hysterics. 

"You know, to fertilize your woody, to water your plants, I'm not sure how much more obvious I can get, Treelover. But if I have to. I'm talking about jer—"

"I get it! Ohmygodstopplease!" I really didn't need this conversation today, or his disturbing hand motions he was beginning to do. 

"Okay, okay fine. Let's just play so I don't cause any further damage to your virgin ears." 

Jared's laughs haven't been reaching his eyes today. And usually he puts his whole body into his laughing, but it seems like he just isn't as into it. 

I want to ask him, but I feel like I already annoyed him enough today with my probing into his personal life. I'll just let him tell me when he's ready. 

Knowing Jared, that might never happen. 

I fall onto my bed and grab the controller that Jared is holding out to me. 

"You absolute Neanderthal! You have to climb up the gears like this," Jared yells while jumping onto a large moving gear, "it's really not that hard. I'm pretty sure my cat Rupert could beat this level with his paws tied behind his back." 

"J-Jared, your cat is, dead, I thought?" So maybe I've been stuck trying to maneuver up to the ledge that Jared is on for a few minutes, but he also already finished this game before. And I don't even have a Switch, I just use his.

"Exactly! My cat is a pile of ash and he could still figure out how to jump a few times." 

After repeatedly falling off the gear and somehow getting further away from Jared than I previously was, we decide to take a break and eat. As we're arguing over what to make, my phone starts ringing. I hurriedly dig it out of my pocket and look at who it is. 

"It, it's my mom. I'll, um, one second." Jared gives me a thumbs up before dramatically rolling off my bed and laying on the floor. 

I don't even bother to try to understand why he just did that as I rush into the bathroom and answer the call. 

• • • • • • • • • •

Oh my god. I actually am at Evan's house of all places right now. 

Not that I really have anywhere else I can be, but still. I can't believe I managed to stop being a pussy and asked to hang out with him. 

Okay well, yeah, I know that getting close to him is a bad idea for me. Especially considering the shit that just happened to me. But Evan doesn't know, and I intend to keep it that way. If he finds out, I doubt he'd want to be friends with me anymore. I mean family-friends. Fuck, why do I keep hanging out with him, he's gonna find out who I really am and leave me like everyone else does. I have to—

I shake my head to try and get these thoughts out of my head. God, I feel like Evan with all of this worrying. 

I groan and roll myself over towards Evan's bed. I'm about to lift myself up when I see a piece of paper sticking out from under his mattress. 

Is that some sappy love letter or something? I am totally going to use this to embarrass the fuck out of him. (That'll stop him from getting too close to me.)

I pull the crinkled paper out and start to scan the words. 

'Dear Evan Hansen'? Was he writing secret letters to some pen pal?

As I read the first paragraph, I realize that this is probably Evan writing to himself. I think he might've mentioned something about writing letters to himself last school year or something. Yeah, it does ring a bell now that I'm thinking about it. 

As I read on, I start to definitely know that it's him. He's been pining over that Zoe girl for so long, and he hasn't even tried talking to her. It's honestly kind of sad, and if I had any flirting advice I would give it to him. But I only ever had a girl start kissing me and then she was putting my hand on her chest and I ran away crying like a... 

So I really am not any help. 

I start reading the last part of the letter and I feel my chest tighten. 

Evan doesn't think that anything he says matters? I know that my jokes are in bad taste, but I didn't think they would affect him so much. 

Wait. What does he mean when he says 'disappear'? He doesn't mean... does he?

Oh my god. He wants to kill himself and it's all my fault. If I just acted like less of a complete dick, maybe he'd not feel like this. I made him— no, I make him feel like he is worthless and he wrote this... what is this, a fucking suicide note? Is he going to kill himself? Fucking shit, how am I going to even bring this up, I'm too chickenshit to talk about feelings or that shit. But this is important, I can't—

"J-Jared? What are you... doing? What is... oh."

Fuck. 

Evan comes into the room and stares at me hunched over and maybe tearing up a bit looking at his private and personal letter that I wish I never read, what was I thinking? 

I take a few breaths before I'm able to speak, staring at a terrified-looking Evan. 

"You, um, did you write this, Evan?" 

He looks down at his feet before giving an almost unnoticeable nod of his head. 

"What the fuck?" 

I wince when I see Evan take a step away from me. 

"I didn't mean... When did you write this?" I try to speak softer than I usually do, but I don't know how well it sounds. 

"It was a while ago! I don't feel that way now obviously, I'm fine! It was last year and that's in the past and I'm over it I was just overreacting. I'm sorry I worried you, everything's okay. I don't know why you'd worry about it anyway because it's not like we're actually friends." Evan says all of this almost too quick to comprehend it all, and he is almost gasping for air when he's done. 

"Evan, is this..."

"Is it what?" He asks quickly before I can even get out the question. 

"A, a fucking suicide note?"

"W-what? No! I wouldn't write a suicide note and then not go through with dying, and why would I keep the note? You know how paranoid I get about people finding things. I honestly didn't write that as a suicide note." He's speaking faster than he can filter what he's saying— more than usual, anyway. 

"Then why did you say that no one would notice if you disappeared?"

"Because it's true!" It's obvious by the hand on his mouth that he didn't mean to blurt that out to me. He starts to scurry out of his room like a scared little doe. I sigh quickly before standing up and pulling him towards the bed. 

He's trying to avoid looking at me, but I can tell that he's crying by the way his shoulders are shaking. 

"Would you like to elaborate on what you just said, Evan?" 

He starts pulling at a string from his bed sheet, and I grab his hand to get his attention. His eyes widen and he looks up at me with his reddened eyes (and no I'm not crying either, I'm just allergic to something in Evan's room). 

"It's not like I have anywhere to be. So you're kinda stuck here with me whether you like it or not. I swear that I'll try not to be an asshole for now." As I finish speaking, I notice that we're still holding hands and I try to take my hand away as subtlety as possible. 

Evan takes a few deep breaths before he speaks. 

"That letter was, uh, it was from the beginning of school last year. And I wasn't writing it as a... you know. I was just feeling lost and alone. But there was a time when..." He clears his throat and wipes his hands on his pants before continuing.  
"You know, uh, over the summer last year when I was an apprentice park ranger? Well, I was, I was climbing this tree there one day and I was just sitting all the way up there and I realized how small and meaningless I am in comparison to the rest of the world and I didn't have anyone that really cared about me. And, I know that my mom cares but with how busy she always was it was like if I never came home would she have ever noticed or would she just be happy that she didn't have to pay for another mouth to feed? 

"And the world looked so beautiful from up there and it reminded me that the world can be really cruel and unfair but on the surface it seems like this perfect place where everyone gets along and everyone feels like they matter. But for people who can't really interact with anyone without freaking out, no one really gives them a second glance. And would anyone at school even notice that this awkward boy wasn't there anymore? And did anyone see that underneath my anxiety and awkwardness I just sometimes want to just be anyone else, or maybe even...

"And so I... I just let go. And while I'm laying there, I wondered if anyone would come and look for me. I waited for what feels like forever, and no one showed up. And I remember thinking 'why would someone show up to look for me?' and 'it's my fault for not making myself more approachable and worth knowing. But I'm not worth knowing, and I'm not worth anything really.' And... yeah. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ramble on for so long I know that you don't want to hear me cry about my problems, and I didn't realize I was crying. Sorry." Evan tries to wipe his tears off on his arm, but more tears just keep coming out. 

I don't know what I'm supposed to say. I'm just trying really hard not to start sobbing right now. 

I try to go through all the possible things I could say to him. Maybe something like 'why didn't you tell me?' Or maybe a 'you know you mean a lot to people'. But I see him crying and I can't think fast enough and my stupid brain sputters out a response before I can comprehend what I'm saying. 

"So should I stop calling you Acorn?" 

I cringe at my words and panic. 

"I didn't mean that. I mean, of course I'll stop calling you Acorn because how fucked up is it to make fun of someone's suicide attempt? But I meant that I shouldn't have asked that question first, that was insensitive and that's kind of just who I am but I didn't mean it and I never mean it. I just... 

"Fuck Evan, I can't believe that I never noticed how you were feeling. I've always been so absorbed in myself and I wish that you had someone to talk to about how you're feeling." 

"You sound like me." Evan gives a weak chuckle. 

"It's 'cause I've been hanging around you more often." I joke and then try to prepare myself for this feelings-palooza we're about to have.  
"Do you, uh. Do you still feel that way, Evan? Like... no one would care if you...?" 

"I, uh. I mean, I guess sometimes. But it's, it's been a lot better now that I got put on new medication and opened up to my mom. But yeah, everything has been okay. I didn't mean to share all of this personal stuff, I know that you, uh, don't really like that kind of thing, I get it. Uh, sorry. So uh, do you want to eat something, I have uh, some pasta I can try to—."

"My mom doesn't have a date tonight." Fuck. 

"I, uh, I, okay? Then, um, why are you here? Sorry, that sounded ruder than I meant it to sound. I just meant that why would you choose to hang out with me if you could be at home or with other friends or anywhere else?" 

"Well. I. I can't exactly go home right now. My mom kind of actually kicked me out for a bit. She... She said she's gonna let me back home tomorrow but I don't really know." 

Why am I telling him this, am I a fucking idiot? I guess so. 

"O-oh. Why? You don't have to tell me but if you want to only of course."

"Uh. My mom kind of found something on my computer and she... she didn't really like it, I guess you could say. And I know she's really religious and whatever, but I thought that Jewish folks were supposed to be cool with this stuff. But, yeah." I remind myself to actually breathe before I continue.  
"So, basically, she found gay porn and told me to wait a day to come home so she could 'think it over', or whatever. But I feel like her kicking me out kind of shows what she 'thinks'."

"Oh. Oh? You, you're..." Evan trails off on whatever he was going to say. 

"A fag, yeah. I was just trying to... to show you that, I don't know, you're not alone in how you're feeling. Wanting to disappear. I don't really have anyone either. And I know I say that I have a bunch of friends, but they all got sick of me messaging them and blocked me. And I know I'm annoying and an asshole so I can't blame them. So, yeah. I know I'm disgusting, I really wish that I wasn't gay too, trust me. I get it though. So, I'll see you, Evan." 

I get up from Evan's bed and grab my bags from the floor and start heading to the door. 

"W-wait! Jared!"

I stop in my tracks and turn around to see Evan almost falling off of his bed. 

"Don't, don't you want your Switch?" Evan holds out the device with a shaky hand as he reaches me. I take it and consider grabbing his hand and pulling him into a hug. 

But after me coming out to him, I doubt he'd want to be that close to me. Hell, he doesn't even want me in his house. It's fine, I get it. I'll just sleep in my car I guess. I don't know how much longer the battery will last on it, so I can just not leave the heat on when I sleep. Homeless people sleep outside right? And they don't die. Well, I'm sure some do. 

Am I homeless? Is my mom going to let me come back? She promised that she would love me no matter what, but I guess that didn't include liking dick. Or, I guess just guys. Maybe that's transphobic to say that I just like dick? God, I just finally accepted that I'm a part of the LGBT+? community and I'm already fucking it up. What a fucking idiot, I can't even be gay right. 

"Thanks, man. For everything." I turn back around and try to not get any tears on my Switch. 

"I'm bi!" 

What? 

I turn around yet another time and see Evan with his hands over his mouth for the second time today. 

"You... what?"

Evan pulls at his shirt before responding.  
"I, um. I'm bi. As in bisexual. As in I like guys and girls! And really any gender! I just, I like the label bi because it's easier and I don't really have to explain it to too many people but obviously I'm doing it right now so how good can it be?"

"You're bi? Are you just fucking with me right now? I know I probably deserve being messed with, but this is kind of low for you."

"N-no! I'm not, I swear! I even told my mom last year, ask her! I just, I didn't know if you would have been cool with it. But obviously you are since, you know. But I just, I don't know, with how you always joke about people being gay, I just assumed that maybe you weren't okay with it. So I thought it would be best to, uh, not. Tell you. Sorry. If you want to leave still you can. I know being with me isn't the best, and I am really anxious and a mess. But I just thought that I should let you know that I'm not disgusted by you. That would be pretty hypocritical if I was." 

I just stand there with my Switch in my hand, my bags on my back, and tears in my eyes. 

And then I'm hugging Evan. 

And he's hugging me back. 

And we're both crying, and it's okay. 

"Wow, gays really are emotional, aren't they?" I ask once my sobbing becomes a light sniffle.

"I'm, uh, bi actually. Unless you meant, like, the umbrella term gay, in which case yeah."

"And you ruined the moment. Nice going... Stripey." 

"Sorry! I didn't mean— S-Stripey?" Evan tilts his head and I swear I don't find it absolutely adorable. 

"Yeah, uh, I was just trying to... to come up with another nickname for you. And that was all I could think of, since you always wear that striped shirt. You know, instead of Acorn, or Treeboy, or whatever." 

"I... I actually like Treeboy. Because I actually like trees, you know? They're just interesting, like how if a bug is attacking it, sometimes trees will send out this chemical that attracts the bug's predator. Or how you can sort of use trees as a compass if you get... I'm rambling again, sorry."

"Stop apologizing so much. If anyone should be apologizing... it should be me." I manage to get all the words out without gritting my teeth. 

"You, you haven't done anything wrong."

"Evan, you're a sweet guy, but people take advantage of that. I took advantage of that. And. I'm sorry for... all the awful shit that I did to you." How does Evan apologize so much? It's so hard to do for me. 

Evan seems to contemplate something for a second before responding. 

"Do you, um. Do you know why you acted that way?" 

Okay, this is it. Just tell him. But don't spill your guts to this boy. He'll leave you if he knows how insecure and pathetic you are. 

"I... god, I'm so pathetic. So, I didn't really know why I was such an enormous douchebag at first. I kept pushing you away and I wasn't talking to anyone really. And no, I don't have any camp friends, but I'm sure you knew that already. No one wanted to hang out with me at camp and I couldn't blame them, I wasn't exactly the most approachable guy. 

"But anyway, I had a point here, and don't interrupt me because if I stop talking I'm not going to be able to say this shit ever again. Basically, I am a major fucking pussy and I couldn't stand the idea of you leaving if you knew the real me. Because everyone who ever matters leaves me once I let them in and so my dumb ass must have indirectly thought, 'why don't you just not let anyone in?', and so I was an asshole so you'd never try to get close to me."

I don't know if I'm breathing between sentences but I can't stop, my mouth won't stop saying more bullshit. I'm fucking crying like a bitch and I can't look at Evan I don't want to see how disgusted he is by me. 

"I never told anyone this shit but I definitely owe you an explanation to why I've treated you like human garbage for these past few years. God, my brain isn't working right, but I guess it never works right 'cause I keep making stupid mistakes and try to blame it on my shitty upbringing and bad mental health but you have it so much worse than me and you're still an amazing person. Like, 'boohoo, Jared, your parents hate you and everyone at school hates you, but you know that beneath that fake-ass cocky bravado that you deserve every bit of hate that you get, and maybe you even want it, just so at least you aren't ignored. Because isn't being noticed and hated better than being a fucking nobody?'" 

Breathe please, Jesus Christ. Fuck, I can't breathe. I feel like I'm definitely Hansen now, with my emotional outburst and need of a paper bag. 

Instead of a paper bag, I try to find something in Evan's room to focus on, to at least lessen the extent of my mental breakdown. 

I feel something warm touch me, and I look down to see that Evan's sweaty palm is resting over my cold and clammy hand. 

So I do what any logical and definitely-not-pining person would do, and I focus on his hand on mine. 

I focus on the feeling of his skin brushing against mine, how warm his hands always are, his short and clearly bitten fingernails, his soft yet grounding hold on me, how he's sweaty but it doesn't even bother me because it's Evan and he's everything I want but can't have because who'd want to be with the insecure gay asshole who can't look in the mirror and can't even fucking jerk off without crying because it's disgusting—I'm disgusting. 

"Jared, look at me! Please." Evan's eyes are all I see and he's real and he's here. 

I focus harder than before on breathing and I follow Evan's deep and deliberate breaths and after a bit I'm back. I'm in his room on his bed and I'm breathing and our hands are touching and I just had a panic attack in front of Evan. 

I work on trying to regain my voice before I speak again.  
"Fuck. I didn't mean to go 'pussy mode' on you. I guess I'm always in pussy mode though since I'm a homo. But I don't even like pussy, so it doesn't even make sense why gay dudes are called pussies, ya know?"

"You... geez, Jared. You, uh, really have no filter when you're anxious," Evan says before his eyes widen and he adds, "not that that's a bad thing or whatever, I know I do it too! I just noticed that you seem to be more open when you're like this. I don't mean when you're having a panic attack, because obviously that's not good and I would rather you be closed off if it means you don't have to go through those. Now I'm the one doing the 'talking-a-lot' thing, so I'll shut up."

Evan's hand leaves mine and he closes into himself. I'd normally be making fun of him right about now for blurting out nonsense, so I'm not sure what a decent person is supposed to say in response to that. 

"You're so fucking adorable when you spout out random shit. I mean— that's not what I wanted to say." I've never had quite as strong of an urge to jump out of a window as I do right now. 

And of course Evan blushes, of fucking course. He always blushes when someone compliments him, as if he doesn't realize that he's the hottest guy in our entire school. I guess if he's jumping out of trees he actually doesn't know. 

That's so fucked up, god. My mind won't stop being a dick to people. I have to completely unlearn being a terrible person. 

"I, uh, you. Yeah. Uh thanks? You too? No, I didn't mean that! I just meant that— ugh!" 

Evan—poor Evan—falls back on his bed with his hands over his red face. 

He is so bad at talking, it sounds like he's flirting with me or something. This boy is so bad at not sounding gay. Or, bisexual I guess? 

Instead of adding more embarrassment to our totally pathetic conversation, I just decide to join him on the end of his bed. 

And we lay there together, our shoulders brushing against each other, the only sounds I hear being from the boy next to me and the shitty cheap fan in the corner of his room. 

I didn't tell Evan everything, and I doubt that he did either. There's still a ton of shit we need to talk about later. But still, there was a huge weight lifted off of my chest after I let Evan in. 

And he didn't hate me. He doesn't hate me. Maybe he even thinks of me as a friend? Maybe... 

Well, he didn't leave me behind or kick me out of his house or punch me in the face, so I'd call that a win in my book. 

I'm so fucking scared that I won't be allowed to go back to my own house, but at least for now, it seems like I have a home here. With Evan. 

Okay, wow, now that is gay. 

I close my eyes and fall asleep listening to Evan's steady breaths.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song ‘Fear of Intimacy’ by Zack Villere. 
> 
> Also, I know that Evan and Jared are seniors in the musical when everything goes down and when Evan attempted suicide, but my dumbass wrote this whole story without knowing enough about the musical, so yeah it doesn’t make sense how they’re still in high school dhsjjsjsks. 
> 
> And also again, I LOVE ALANA AND I FEEL AWFUL FOR NOT PUTTING HER IN THIS SHE IS SO AMAZING I THINK THAT SHE WOULD BE BESTIES WITH JARED I AM GAY FOR HER THANK YOU. 
> 
> Don’t hesitate to leave a comment, no matter how short or random it may seem to you! Any constructive criticism is also appreciated, and even just criticism about how shitty my writing is will help me improve. But also, just reading this story is appreciated a ton too, especially considering how bad it is. 
> 
> Also, I know that I have a lot of punctuation errors in this story (and all of my stories, but honestly that’s just who I am). I feel like Jared and Evan both would speak a lot in run-in sentences when nervous, so I purposely tried to make it seem that way. It probably is hard to read, sorry for that! 
> 
> If you just want to talk about how much you love Jared Kleinman or Michael Mell, feel free to comment about that too. I love my boys.


End file.
